


Wildest Dreams

by forgotmyline



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ficlet, Light Angst, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5319737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgotmyline/pseuds/forgotmyline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few ficlets I wrote awhile back for Dorian and my male Inquisitor, Nahuel. These are not in chronological order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He said let’s get out of this town, drive out of the city, away from the crowds. I thought heaven can’t help me now. Nothing lasts forever.

Beautiful, stupid elf. Dorian told him he was planning on leaving Skyhold once the whole Corypheus ordeal had been taken care of. He warned him, wanted to make sure he didn’t do something ridiculous like fall in love with him. And yet, here they were. “It’s time, Nahuel.”

The Inquisitor looked up at him, his face a riot of emotions. Anger, that one Dorian could see plain as day. But there was more too, a sadness painting his delicate features. His eyes had dulled from a clear, bright blue, the color of the ocean on a summer day to a flatter grey. His shoulders were hunched in defeat, knowing he wasn’t going to convince the mage to change his mind. And Dorian had been the one to do that to him. It tore at his gut to know that he was the reason for Nahuel’s pain.

They were on Nahuel’s balcony, the view of the mountains now forever tainted by the memory they were creating. That Dorian was creating. Dorian sidled closer to him, wanting to be near him. Nahuel shrugged him off. Dorian didn’t blame him, even if he had warned him months ago that he would be returning to Tevinter.

“Come with me, Amatus.”

Nahuel snorted. “Yes, because that would go over well, bringing your male elven lover home to meet the family.”

Dorian knew he would say no, knew there was no other way this could end. If only Nahuel would look at him, then he would see how much his own heart was breaking. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. “Please, Nahuel, just… I don’t want us to part like this.”

Finally, he turned to face Dorian. He took the mage’s face into his hands, not bothering to be gentle with him. His lips devoured Dorian’s, rough and hungry, his kiss begging him to stay, begging for more, for everything. Dorian fisted the elf’s shirt in his hands, pulling him closer, but not close enough. Never close enough. Maker, how was he going to survive without this, without _him_?

Nahuel pulled away, Dorian feeling bereft at his abrupt retreat. His forehead touched Dorian’s, the gentleness of the act a sharp contrast to the way he just kissed him. Dorian pretended not to notice the tears running silently down his cheeks.

“Don’t go, Dorian,” Nahuel pleaded, his voice a barely audible whisper.

Dorian choked back a sob of his own, then, his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. “You know I would stay if I could, Nahuel. You know. I need to… Tevinter needs to change, to become better, and I can help it do that.”

 


	2. He’s so tall and handsome as hell. He’s so bad, but he does it so well.

Dorian fought hard, and would have had things well in hand even if the Herald and his party hadn’t shown up when they did. He stood in the midst of a circle of dead demons, the rift above him still glowing that obnoxious green. Ghastly, really. He looked up, a cheeky grin on his face as new demons began to appear. “About time you showed up for this fight.”

The Herald took action immediately, thrusting his left palm up toward the rift. Dorian didn’t know what he did, but he could almost feel a change in the air surrounding the rift, as if the Herald had stolen the energy from it. Once that was done, he snarled, pulling two long daggers from the sheaths on his back. Swift, like a jungle cat. Just as beautiful and dangerous as well, he’d wager. The Herald took out two of the four demons in quick succession, so quickly that Dorian hadn’t even seen him move.

He stood in awe as the Herald’s companions dispatched the other demons, the man himself raising his palm once again towards the rift, this time actually closing it.

“Do you even know how you do that? Or do you just wiggle your fingers and hope for the best?” Dorian chuckled.

The Herald was not amused. He was before Dorian in a flash, tall and imposing despite his slight frame, the glare on his face almost enough to make Dorian quake in his boots. As it was, he found it rather... attractive. “And who the hell are you? Felix dropped me a note to meet him here, but I find a stranger instead. Is this some kind of trap?”

He radiated with quiet rage, his voice never rising but his anger evident nonetheless. Dorian took a step back, bowing slightly. “Dorian of House Pavus, at your service. Felix should be here as well, but I imagine he got held up by his father. And I’m here to  _warn_ you, by the way, so perhaps you can point those daggers elsewhere.”

The Herald complied with Dorian’s request, though grudgingly if his sigh was any indication. “Nahuel of clan Lavellan. Tell me whatever you can. Please.”

Dorian felt a smile tug at his lips. That please was definitely tacked on at the end, as if he was some wild thing, just learning how to be civilized. He still radiated anger as well, though Dorian didn’t think it was necessarily aimed in his direction anymore. That anger looked surprisingly at home on his delicate features.  Maker's breath, but he was gorgeous. Messy, shoulder length black hair, shaved underneath with tiny braids on the sides that were just a bit longer than the rest, golden eyes that brought to mind the finest of whiskeys, his figure lean and sinewy. Oh, Dorian just knew that he was going to get himself in trouble with this one. 


	3. I said "No one has to know what we do." His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room. And his voice is a familiar sound. Nothing lasts forever, but this is getting good now.

They had been flirting shamelessly for weeks, and Dorian still hadn’t been sure that The Inquisitor was actually interested in him, not really. And then, Andraste preserve him, Nahuel kissed him, right in the library, in full view of everyone. It was nothing like he imagined and everything he hoped it would be. Fierce, like he was trying to posses Dorian, trying to dominate him, take what he already knew was his.

He pulled away just as Dorian started to run his hands through his hair, leaving both of them unable to catch their breath. Nahuel looked at him, his smile lighting up his face. “Festis bei umo canavarum,” Dorian mumbled.

Nahuel chuckled. “And you as well, Dorian.” He reached for Dorian again, placing a lighter, more chaste kiss upon his lips. “We’ll continue this later, away from prying eyes and wagging tongues.”

Dorian watched as he stalked away. Trouble, that one. And yet, Dorian found that he couldn’t wait to find out just how much trouble, couldn’t help but imagine his clothes at the foot of Nahuel’s bed, or running his hands through his hair, gripping it tight because he just couldn’t stop himself. Later couldn’t come fast enough.

 

 


	4. You see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night

Dorian awoke with a start, looked around the unfamiliar room, unsure of where he was. He looked next to him, then, smiling at Nahuel’s arms around him, their limbs tangled up together. He was sure of so many things in life, but this? He had no idea how to do this, a relationship. A partnership without the power imbalance he was so used to back home.

Nahuel stirred. He looked up at Dorian, half lidded eyes staring at him from behind a few locks of hair that had fallen over them. He tugged Dorian closer, bringing his lips closer, capturing them as he ran a lazy touch down his chest. “Come back to me, Dorian.”

Ah, that smile. How could Dorian say no to that?

 


	5. Some day when you leave me, I bet these memories follow you around

It had been years since Dorian had left the Inquisition. He never thought he would return - after all, he had so much work to do back home. Still did, as a matter of fact, but…

He missed him, needed to see him again. And he knew that it was probably a bad idea, but he really didn’t much care. Nahuel had been at the forefront of his mind lately, and Dorian found that, in spite of the years and distance, he still ached for him, his feeling not having diminished one whit.

Unsurprising, really. Nahuel was a force of nature, wild and free, powerful in ways Dorian had never imagined before. They hadn’t parted on the easiest of terms, though, and Dorian could only hope that he didn’t hate him.

Skyhold loomed before him, beautiful and imposing as ever. Dorian stopped for a moment, taking everything in, taking a moment to gather his bearings, before he marched right through the gates as if Skyhold were _his_. The guards didn’t stop him, and he could only assume they remembered him from before. Or maybe it was just the way he carried himself. Dorian didn’t care either way, so long as he got inside.

If he remembered correctly (and he usually did), Nahuel would likely be practicing with the troops. He always did like to get it out of the way early. He made his way to the training pit, which looked exactly as it had the day Dorian left.

There he was, his bloody beautiful elf, daggers in hand as he attacked a training dummy for Maker knows what horrendous offence. Dorian leaned against a fence post, waiting for Nahuel to notice him. He didn’t want to interrupt, of course. That was the lie he told himself at any rate. He knew, deep down, that he was being a coward. As much as he wanted to see him, Dorian was terrified of even the possibility of rejection.

Nahuel stopped, finally, grabbing a cloth to wipe the sweat from his face and neck. Dorian, still leaning, looking far more casual than he felt, brought his hands together in a quiet clap. Nahuel snapped in his direction, coming to a dead halt when he saw who it was. “Picked up a few new tricks, I see.”

Nahuel stalked toward him, his expression unreadable, making Dorian yet again feel like prey. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not in this circumstance, but he didn’t dare move until Nahuel reached him and he straightened to his full height.

He fisted Dorian’s robe in his hand, pulling him close, his expression going from unreadable to angry to… Dorian didn’t have time to figure it out before Nahuel, eyes narrowed, head tilted, kissed him. It was the last reaction Dorian had hoped for, but he found he couldn’t complain as their lips, their tongues, their teeth all clashed. It was fierce, filled with everything they hadn’t been able to say over the past few years.

Nahuel pulled away, his eyes wide as he took a step back. “I’m sorry, Ma vhenan. I wasn’t sure that you were real. What are you doing here, Dorian?”

There was no anger in his voice, just confusion. Dorian stepped closer, almost afraid as he pulled Nahuel into his embrace again. _Home_ , he thought. _Nahuel feels like home_. He sighed, whispering, “I missed you, Amatus.”

“I missed you as well, Dorian.” Nahuel’s voice broke as he replied, his voice barely a whisper.

Dorian flashed him the barest hint of a smile. “I know I don’t deserve it, but do you think the Inquisition has room for me for a little while?”

Nahuel grinned, eyes gleaming. “For you, Dorian? Always.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, a songfic, and yes, Taylor Swift at that. Sorrynotsorry.
> 
> Also, I don't generally write m/m because I think I'm sort of awful at it. Still, I came across this file on my computer and didn't hate it so here we are. Kudos and comments are, as always, appreciated, and if you want to send me a prompt, I'm over on tumblr as forgotmyline.


End file.
